


Life Affirming

by DhampirsDrinkEspresso



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Fix-It, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Grief/Mourning, Hints of Past Poe/Ben, M/M, Misuse of the Mirror Cave, Multi, Of Course She Kept His Clothes, Past Relationship(s), Past and Ongoing Rey/Finn/Poe, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Post-TRoS, That's Not How The Force Works, The Force Ships It, Threesome - F/M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DhampirsDrinkEspresso/pseuds/DhampirsDrinkEspresso
Summary: Rey can't cry for Ben Solo, but she can't quite move on either, not even with Poe and Finn to help her. Of course, they have issues of their own when it comes to Ben Solo.She doesn’t cry when she finally curls up to sleep, head pillowed on the clothes that are all that’s left of him, of a man she thinks maybe she could have loved, if things had been different, if they had both made different choices long before they had ever met.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron/Finn/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey, Poe Dameron/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Life Affirming

**Author's Note:**

> I started this, I think between my second and third times seeing TRoS in theaters, so back in January, and then I had to just close the file and walk away.
> 
> Seriously, y'all, this is not pure Reylo, it's very definitely JediStormPilot and DarkJediStormPilot, mostly with what may or may not be Ghost!Ben...

She didn’t cry, after, when he faded away leaving only empty clothes and the memory of that one, real smile.

She didn’t cry when she left Exegol, alone, truly alone for the first time since the bond between them made itself known.

When she got back to them, to Poe and to Finn, there was no room for tears, the joy and relief that it was DONE and somehow, they had all SURVIVED in the end, even if she had help with that bit.

Even now, there are no tears when she remembers, when she feels the emptiness and loss of him in her mind. She can’t bring herself to cry. He was at peace, and it was the best ending he could have gotten. She knows, had he survived, it wouldn’t have been for long.

At least, that’s what she tells herself, when it’s late and everyone around her sleeps.

She tells herself it’s fine, everything worked the way it should, the way the Force willed it.

There is a twinge of guilt, but still no tears, when she tells the remaining Resistance leaders an abbreviated version of the events on Exegol. She doesn’t tell them she died, nor that she didn’t fight alone. She doesn’t tell them how close they came to losing EVERYTHING. She doesn’t tell them who her father, or more importantly who her grandfather was.

She doesn’t tell them Ben Solo survived their battle on the ruins of the Death Star. Only that Kylo Ren died there.

She doesn’t flinch (outwardly, at least) when cheers go up as word spreads throughout the camp that he’s gone, too. Not everyone knows who he was, and those who do mostly thought he was past redemption. They’d done their mourning long ago.

She doesn’t cry when she finally curls up to sleep, head pillowed on the clothes that are all that’s left of him, of a man she thinks maybe she could have loved, if things had been different, if they had both made different choices long before they had ever met.

The next day, Finn and Poe seek her out. They know there is more to the story. Poe says Finn has a _feeling_ about it. Finn says Poe can see it. She tells them all of it. Almost all of it, anyway. She tells them how close it was, how the Emperor had been restored by the life force he stole. How she woke up when Ben healed her, sacrificing himself to return the life she’d shared with him. She blushes when she admits she kissed him before he was gone.

She doesn’t tell them she had actually died; she doesn’t have to. Finn already knows.

She doesn’t tell them about the clothes. His clothes. Kylo Ren’s clothes. Ben’s clothes.

She doesn’t tell them, but eventually they find out.

Poe is surprisingly adept with a needle. Finn knows the products and processes the First Order used for laundry.

The rips are mended, the stains removed. They even almost smell like him again.

But it’s only almost.

The second time she seeks Poe out, the pants are shortened, resized at the waist. The only way to do it without cutting them down was to add a drawstring.

She looks ridiculous, the crotch hanging to her knees, the legs essentially doubled up on themselves. But they are warm, and surprisingly soft, and when she sleeps, she can almost feel him next to her, the press of his thighs against her legs, the weight of their calves tangled together.

She doesn’t let Poe change the sweater, and it hangs like a poorly fitting dress, but it’s soft and the sleeves cover her hands, keep her arms warm. Sometimes the extra fabric gets tangled, trapped under the weight of her own body, and she dreams he’s holding her, arm keeping her locked back against his chest.

She hears his voice as she wakes, but she never quite catches the words.

It never really stops, the dull ache, the feeling that half her soul is missing, and it makes her weak.

She gives in to it, the first time, when Poe gives her that look, the one that says he understands.

When he kisses her it’s awkward and messy and punctuated with tears, but when he whispers, softly, “I miss him too, I have for a long time,” she lets him stay and when she wakes with the weight of an arm over her waist, the heat of him at her back…well, it’s not right but for just a moment it’s enough.

She falls into Finn suddenly, shocking herself as much as him with the needy desperation she feels as she presses her lips to his, guides his hands over her body. She doesn’t cry. For a moment she thinks he might, and she realizes he can feel it, has been able to for a while. He knows she’s broken, wants to fix her only so she won’t hurt anymore.

Finn does all their laundry, now. His, hers, Poe’s. He and Poe trade off on wearing Ben’s clothes for her, and when she takes them back, they smell clean and fresh and male again, and it’s not right, not _Ben_ , but it’s _good_. She breathes deep, closes her eyes, and the cool pine of Finn, the warm clove of Poe—that mix of scents she is beginning to associate with _home—_ is eclipsed by sweet mint. She trembles. For just a moment as she opens her eyes, she can feel his hand on her shoulder, hear him whisper her name.

She still doesn’t cry, stubbornly refuses to let go of a single, precious tear.

Because it feels like letting go of her tears means letting go of _him._

There’s no more pretense, with Poe and Finn. They accept that there aren’t three people in her bed, there are four.

The first time it happens, she thinks she might be going crazy, finally broken completely. She’s washing her hands, glances up, and for just a moment it’s not her own eyes staring back at her in the water spotted glass mirror.

Ben’s eyes in her face.

She gasps and her reflection is normal again.

It happens again the next night, but it’s not her reflection this time. Poe is over her, _inside_ her, but he isn’t the one staring down at her, and the realization is shattering. When she can breathe/speak/see/think again it’s over, and he and Finn stare at her in confusion and fear.

She doesn’t tell them.

It happens again, this time with Finn. Only it’s not his eyes, and it’s not only Rey who can see it. They’ve spent the day making small repairs, and take a moment to stand in the cockpit, staring out as night falls on this current moon. Finn stands behind her, one arm around her waist, and absently presses a kiss to her temple. They are reflected back as night falls, but there is another figure there, standing behind them. They both turn, but there is nothing, no one.

“I felt him, Rey,” Finn says quietly, and at least if she _is_ crazy, she isn’t the only one.

Finn suggests the mirror, and she carries it everywhere, checking every few minutes, always disappointed when her eyes are her own, when no one stands behind her.

It keeps happening, though, and eventually they realize it’s something about the three of them. Poe falls off the bed when Ben’s eyes look up at him from Rey’s face. Finn spins, hearing a voice that isn’t there, sensing frustration he doesn’t feel.

Sometimes, when one or both of them is with Rey, they can hear him, see him, feel him there in the room.

But only for a moment, a split second, barely enough time for the recognition.

Just being in the same room together is sometimes enough, but sex…that nearly always pulls him to them.

They get a bigger mirror, hang it near the bed.

At first, it’s the same, someone’s eyes are replaced, the outline of a fourth person is reflected back, the memory of an echo and ghost of a touch comes to them all. It changes though, over time. Eventually he’s there, clear, and they can’t hear him, but they can see him, _sense_ him there in the room.

_Waiting._

The question is where.

It’s Finn who realizes, and Rey feels like an idiot.

They leave for Ahch-To that night, the three of them, BB-8, and Chewie on the Falcon.

The Wookie is unexpected and stubborn. They won’t tell him what they are doing, but he seems to know anyway, setting a course and shooing them all into the bedroom. They’ll need their rest, he claims.

They don’t rest.

Can’t.

Poe paces. Finn talks to himself. Rey fails at meditation.

Rey paces while Finn tries to meditate but Poe won’t let him.

They fall into the bed, frantic and desperate, and they don’t need a mirror to see him this time.

Poe doesn’t like the Mirror Cave. It gives him a bad feeling, he says, like they’re being watched, but he follows them anyway, not even complaining as much as he could.

It doesn’t matter, he isn’t there, and they climb back out, defeated.

They spend the night in the Falcon, unsure what to do now but not ready to go back.

They hold each other, press gentle kisses back and forth, and Poe sits up with a curse, realizing their mistake.

They don’t wait for morning, and all three of them nearly end up with broken bones.

They make it, though, into the heart of the cave, shedding clothes in a desperate heap, using the mirror like wall for support, half-laughing at their own reflections in a crazed way.

_It’s not working, not going to work._

Rey nearly cries, this time, eyes blurring as she leans against the cool surface.

Warmth, warmth at her back, and arms from _behind_ her.

They stumble, fall, and he’s _there_ and he’s _real_ and finally, _finally_ , she cries.

It’s okay though, it’s fine, because he’s with her and she’s not the only one crying.

Poe and Finn try to pull away, think to leave, and it’s Ben who stops them.

“You love her, too,” he says, as if it could really be so simple.

She looks at them, sees the way Poe stares at the man holding her, at the Ben he thought lost long before the rest of them even knew him, sees the way Finn’s eyes linger, but not over her. She can feel it then, the promise of something, the hope for more.

Maybe it really can be that simple.


End file.
